


Final Fantasy XIV Writings (Drabbles)

by DarthSuki



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 16:45:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: This is a compilation of drabbles for the Final Fantasy XIV fandom, originally from the tumblr blogFinal Fantasy XIV Writings.The majority of these are reader-centric content and will be labeled according to included characters, topic and rating.





	1. Haurchefant: Purring [Miqo!Reader]

> _Can I get a Miqo’te WoL cuddling with Haurchefant? Maybe they purr, and his reaction when he hears it the first time?_

“…and of course, after such a brazen display of concern for her countrymen, I saw it fit that she’d earn the posted reward and, oh–dear friend, am I boring you?”

The question tugs you out of your mind like the poke a lance. You gather yourself up quickly, body straightening out and tail absently curling around one of the chair legs beneath you.

“Oh not at all,” you say, hoping that the words sound more confident then they feel. “It must be the chill in the air, I’m a bit more weak to it than others around here, as you know.”

It’s only a partial lie, but one that needs no elaboration in your heritage as a Miqo’te for him to understand.

The last thing you want is for Haurchefant to realize you had been spacing out, especially as he often takes so much time away from his duties in order to entertain some time with you. Few things bring you close enough to Coerthas to make the excuse to visit the man after all, and they always seem so short-lived.

There’s just something about the man’s voice, the way he speaks with reverence and wonder in all things that always leave you feeling so at ease. You could listen to the man read from an ancient tome in a language you scant understand and it would still have such an effect upon you, chest warmed and mind numbed in blissful comfort.

It’s not for lack of interest, though you fear he’d misunderstand if you tried to tell him the truth.

If Haurchefant holds any reservations then he certainly doesn’t show them. He smiles broadly instead, pushing himself up from the chair with a rough scrape of wood upon wood.

“Oh my friend, you should tell me if its cold! I wouldn’t want it to leave you weak or ill,” Haurchefant speaks with a concern to his words, though the smile doesn’t fade even as he steps around the table to instead take the empty seat beside you. “I’ll have someone add wood upon the hearth, but let me offer but the humble comforts of mine own body first.”

He moves before you can offer much of an argument, an arm around your shoulders and his head leaning against yours in such an angle that his nose and lips gently brush against your hair.

“ _Oh,_ goodness,” the man says far too dramatically. “But as cold as an icicle! Such an emergency calls for but the most drastic of responses.”

As shameless as can be he wraps his other arm around your body and, when you can’t offer but a peep of complaint, he pulls you into his lap and against his chest. Half of you wants to call shock as the reason you don’t try to deny the touch, but the other half can’t help but melt into him.

“Dare I say your willingness is appreciated,” you say with a giggle, trying not to seem too excited about the prospect of being held in Haurchefant’s arms. “I suppose I shan’t freeze this day good sir.”

It takes a few moments to shift yourself to sit comfortably against his armored chest. Haurchefant’s head rests on the top of your head, height towering over you even when the two of you were but sitting down, and you feel him hum in soft delight.

If it be anyone else, anyone else besides he, you know you’d be angered and uncomfortable by the idea of them being so close and intimate. But it’s  _Haurchefant_  who holds you, Haurchefant who nuzzles his face into your hair and his nose against your ears in just right a way to make them flicker in ticklish reply.

Everything from his hum to his fingertips brushing against the small of your back, the warmth of his body to the charm of his words–it’s comforting in ways you’ve never felt before with anyone else. It allows you to relax, to genuinely lower your guard, to pretend you’re nothing more than a normal person and not some powerful keeper of light and hope that people depend on every single moment of the day.

You fall back into your warm haze without realizing it, tail curling around one of the man’s legs and ears drooping low, eyes half-lidded and sleep gnawing in the back of your head. Though you bother not to feel even vaguely surprised, Haurchefant moves one hand from your back up to your hair, where his fingers scratch gently over your scalp–oh, oh that feels nice.

Over the top, down to the nape and then just behind one of your ears; a simple touch but one that leaves your toes almost curling as much as your tail and a noise starting to rumble from deep in your chest and-

“Is that-” you hear beside you, genuinely surprised that it gives pause to the scratches. “Dearest warrior of light mine, are you…purring?”

You’re too lost in the warmth to let the feeling of embarrassment cause more than a flush of heat over your face, eyes still closed and body still tucked against him.

“…It’s a Miqo’te thing.”

And it feels  _good_.

“I wondered as much,” Haurchefant chuckles, continuing the motion, if not pressing even harder with his gloved fingertips. “Shall I also assume it’s a good thing to hear?”

You don’t answer that one with words. The pleasure, simple as it is, leaves it hard to speak with any sort of confidence in your voice, so you nod with an unmistakable clarity–so much so that it amuses the Elezen enough that he chuckles again and presses his lips briefly to the top of your head.

“Then I’ll not stop for even a moment,” he says gently, tugging you ever closer so you’re flush against his chest. “I would want to feel you like this against me for as long as I can, as I doubt your friends would take kindly to me stealing you away when time another foul beast is wrecking up the Eorzean countryside.”

He sighs, leaning back in the chair and tugging you with him.

“Let us both enjoy this warm moment together.”

And so you do with a purr rumbling from your chest, his fingers in your hair and a genuine affection bubbling in your heart.


	2. Thancred: Holding his Breath [NSFW] [DFAB!Reader]

> _Thancred can hold his breath for a full ten minutes. The Warrior of Light can attest to that. (Scene where Thancred eats out a DFAB WoL like a three-course meal)_

When you first heard rumor that Thancred Waters was a man who could hold his breath for a full ten minutes, you chalked it up to dramatic flare–he was a man who would put a flourish to almost any detail, and he so often had the charm that most people didn’t think to ask if the stories he told were genuine or a stretch of the truth.

It wasn’t that the man often  _lied_ , but he often…likened to make things more exciting. In a world where reality often holds cold and painful memories, you can admire the man’s effort make it warmer. Dramatic. Exciting.

That said, you had little trust in the idea that he could hold his breath for several minutes, much less ten. It wasn’t until the Scions found themselves in the Waking Sands in a rowdy state of drunkenness, celebrating a recent victory and a blessed spot of peace, that you decided to ask the devil of a man himself for the truth.

One thing led to another, and then another, and then some clothes were discarded and…well…

Suffice to say, the rumors were  _quite_ accurate.

“Fuck,” you hiss, the word sharp between clenched teeth and bitten lips. “Thancred, I–fuck, oh the twelve above-”

You can’t get more than a few words out before thoughts fail you completely. 

The only clear word that swim through the goop of what was once your brain is little more than the name of the man currently settled with his face between your legs and his tongue pressing hard against your cunt.

His hands grip hard over your hips, equally keeping you still and pulling you forward, closer, practically smothering himself against your heat and wetness.

All the man can do is but offer you a satisfied hum, a flicker of eyes gazing dangerously from between your legs.

You’ve lost track of how many orgasms he’s pulled from your body, constantly falling back and forth between achingly hot and soft and warm–it’s almost as if he knows just the spots to press, to move, laving attention upon every inch of your eager heat until all that’s left of you is a melted puddle of goo with hardly enough strength to keep your legs over the man’s shoulders and your hands clutching at his hair.

You don’t know how long it’s been, but you know for sure that he hasn’t taken a single breath for at least two or three orgasms–Thancred is devoted to your pleasure, his mouth pressed so hard against your core that breathing is likely next to impossible. 

His tongue dives deep inside you, practically fucking you on the thick, wet muscle all while his fingers press so hard to the curves of your hips and thighs that you’ll be surprised not to find a blooming of bruises the next day.

A sharp moan slips from your lips as you feel it: the closeness of orgasm leaking into your body, a coiling tight and hot in the pit of your stomach.

Another hum rumbles from Thancred’s mouth as he doubles-down on the pace of his tongue pressing within you. You gasp, sob and arch up into the pleasure, the ache, the pure euphoria of the moment as he pulls yet another crest of orgasm over your form.

All you can do is sob his name and tug sharply at his soft, silvery hair, knowing he has plenty of time to spare before he’ll even consider being done with you.


	3. Haurchefant: On his knees and begging for you [NSFW]

> _for your consideration: haurchefant in only a cock ring flushed and begging for you_

He kneels upon the wooden floor of the room. You’re not sure how long it’s been, though it’s been long enough for the sky outside to grow dark and for the halls outside the closed door to turn silent. Even if there had been a way to keep track of the ticking minutes, no force upon Eorzea’s land could have drawn your attention away from him.

Haurchefant.

He is obedient, yielding to your wants and bowing to your very touch–left naked as the day he was born upon the ground in front of you, hands bound behind him by word alone. He hasn’t moved an inch since you’ve told him to kneel, to wait, to let you drink up the sight of him.

No, because the Lord of Camp Dragonhead is as much a good follower as he is a leader; he follows your every command breathlessly with the sort of excitement you’ve found familiar in him. Even when he is left on the brink of orgasm again and again, still he listens to you without an ounce of hesitation putting pause to his obedience.

So he kneels before you, legs spread as wide apart as they can without causing him discomfort, his hard cock bobbing in the cold open air. It’s long and flushed, thick with arousal, and eager for even the simplest of touches. It is no secret how close the Elezen is to orgasm, how his balls are drawn tight against his body and his body shaking with arousal.

 So close and yet the mercy will never come to him until you will it, for wrapped around the base of his cock is a ring. Enchanted, it holds tight around Haurchefant’s engorged arousal so that he may get near orgasm, may even feel the softest caress of climax, though he will never fall to it’s euphoric embrace until you decide he’s allowed it–and thrice over has he gotten close in this evening alone.

“My dear,” The Elezen breaths, glancing his icy eyes up to you in a sea of rose-colored haze against his skin. “I yearn for your touch against me, I  _ache_  for your attention.”

You drink up the sound of his voice, tense and near-breaking with the thick arousal that hums in his veins. With a step forward you bring yourself close enough to reach out a hand and let your fingers greedily comb through the man’s soft, silvery hair.

“I know, sweet Haurchefant.”

You let him enjoy the touch for a few moments before finally stepping back, footsteps slowly making you circle around him as if appreciating some form of fine art—of which Haurchefant is the most wondrous of pieces you’ve ever had chance to see.

“Let me enjoy the sight of you but a little longer,” the words are little more than a whisper from between your lips, loud enough that the Elezen all but shivers in hearing them. “You look so beautiful when you’re like this–I want to enjoy every little moment until I finally make you cum.”

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles were written for requests made on my FFXIV writing blog. If you would like to submit a request or check out my other related work, [go check it out here!](https://finalfantasyxivwritings.tumblr.com/)


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